


The Best We Could

by ImpyTricky (rychuu)



Category: New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: M/M, ghost au, post death, they're both dead
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-20
Updated: 2020-06-20
Packaged: 2021-03-04 03:55:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24817210
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rychuu/pseuds/ImpyTricky
Summary: After his death, Kaito discovers Kokichi crying in a field of flowers. (Oumota)
Relationships: Momota Kaito/Oma Kokichi
Comments: 6
Kudos: 185
Collections: Kokichi Ouma Month 2020





	The Best We Could

**Author's Note:**

> I'm back on my angst bullshit again lmao
> 
> This was written for day 19 of Ouma Month, with all of the prompts; Ghost AU, Flowers, and Regret.
> 
> Enjoy the angst!

Kaito didn’t expect to open his eyes at all. He wasn’t ever a religious man, too focused on the science of the living world to ever think of the afterlife. His grandparents were religious, so maybe some of that notion rubbed off on him, but he was far from a believer in the world of the dead.

Never had he thought he’d find his spirit wandering in a field of flowers.

There were all kinds of flowers, all softly glowing with a surreal dim light under the moonlit sky. They glittered and danced in the wind, and the petals of purple hyacinths swirling around him, catching his eyes before catching the wind and leading him forward.

A feeling of longing stirred in his chest, something that compelled him forward. Step by step, the flowers that grew in his footsteps glowed even brighter. Each step marked, like footprints in the sand or snow. Seeing them made Kaito spin around, alarmed, but the initial panic died down into a somber sorrow. He drew in a deep breath to huff out a sigh, and found that he had nearly forgotten what it was like to breathe so clearly and deeply without a deadly illness dragging him into a violent coughing fit.

It was painful to know that only in death did he find that relief.

The purple petals kicked up again, dancing around him until they finally caught Kaito’s gaze again, and just like before, they caught the wind and guided him forward. Whatever force of the spirit world was controlling the wind and these flowers, it desperately wanted him to move in that single direction.

With no other option, Kaito relented once again, frowning as he moved forward. 

Kaito didn’t know how long he had been following the petals and the wind for, but it felt like some kind of eternity. Several hours, and yet at the same time, just a few moments. A contradiction that didn’t follow the laws of the living. Perhaps if life was governed by laws of physics and reality, then death was lawless and surreal. That was the only logical explanation Kaito could think of, for whatever it was worth.

Sooner or later, Kaito finally caught sight of another human being--one very familiar, sitting in the center of a patch of those purple hyacinths, hugging his knees curled up to his chest and his head buried in his arms.

“Kokichi?”

The last time he saw Kokichi was not a pleasant memory. Just seeing him made his heart jump into his throat, and he wanted nothing more than to run away from the guilt.

Kaito had killed Kokichi. Even if it was his own plan, a desperate, maddened plan as a last ditch effort to stop the mastermind, Kaito still had to play such a horrible role in it. The wind kicked up, and the petals it dragged up with it were from the white poppy flowers that blossomed beneath his feet.

Kokichi lifted his head slowly, and Kaito’s chest tightened. It didn’t take an idiot to see that he had been crying, eyes red and puffy from irritation, cheeks still damp with tears. He looked exhausted, like he had been crying for hours.

Briefly, Kaito wondered if he  _ had. _ It had been nearly a whole twenty four hours since Kokichi had been killed. 

Kokichi didn’t respond. He just looked at Kaito for a moment, before he hung his head. Another moment later, and he was burying his face back into his arms. No strength to fight, no will power, nothing. 

Just seeing him like that was exhausting.

Kaito waited a few minutes, just in case Kokichi changed his mind, but soon he relented with a sigh. Instead of pressing forward with his questions--knowing he wouldn’t get any answers anyway--Kaito moved towards Kokichi, slowly, and sat beside him. Kaito only glanced at Kokichi once, before the midnight sky above then drew his attention away. The stars… they seemed so much brighter, even with all of the light pollution from the soft glow of the flowers.

He didn’t know how long they sat in silence, but it was a long while before Kaito felt something pressed against him. When he blinked and turned, he saw that Kokichi had been leaning against him.

“... We failed,” he murmured. “We lost.”

Kokichi was shaking, pulling the jacket--Kaito’s jacket-- over his shoulders more, like a child and a blanket. It made Kaito frown. 

“... We didn't fail,” he argued. Though his rebuttal was softer, and it didn’t carry any resentment or hatred or anger. “We paved the way for the others to take over from there. That’s all. We made it so  _ they _ could win and stop the Killing Games for good. That’s what you were after, wasn’t it?”

Yet those words clearly didn’t provide any comfort or consolation. Kokichi looked even more miserable and tired than before. “... What if it wasn’t enough? What if they lose anyway…?”

Kaito paused, but then shrugged. Hesitantly, gently, he wrapped his arm around Kokichi’s shoulder, a poor attempt at a hug. Kokichi either didn’t mind it or was too tired to really fight against the affectionate touch. “... I’m sure they’ll win. They’ll stop the Killing Games, just you wait.” He smiled, hoping it would reassure Kokichi, even if it was a small bit. “You’ll see. Just give it some time.”

“... Mmm.” Kokichi sighed, eyes only opened half way, and he shifted his attention towards the stars. “... Maybe you’re right.”

Kaito rubbed Kokichi’s shoulder gently, but said nothing else. He knew better to argue with Kokichi when he looked so dead and full of grief, as much as he wanted to force those terrible feelings aside so Kokichi could be happy. That could come later, if there ever  _ was _ a later.

There were so many regrets, now that everything had boiled to this. This ending they never wanted, a voyage they never chose to take. Yet there they were, watching as their guilt and regret was shaped into the stars above.


End file.
